Life
by a mountain of gideon's scones
Summary: Moments which mean the world should be eternally remembered. Because they're what makes a person them. Drabbles throughout Sam's life, from the very beginning until the very end. /poor Sam is unpopular.
1. Hi, I Am Samuel Abelard Glass

**So this is a series of oneshots linking to one of my favourite characters: Sam. **

**They will go from his birth onwards… and they won't, probably, be really long.**

**I don't own anything.**

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I am born on the 3rd September 1932 – a Saturday - in Morganville Hospital, to proud new parents – my parents – called Simon and Jenny Glass. I weigh 7 pounds, 4 ounces, and am born six weeks premature, at 12:01am: just over a minute earlier and my birthday would be the 2nd September. But it isn't; it's the third.

I have a shock of bright red hair, flaming form the roots, and apparently a face which looks like an angel, although some people just thought I was a normal baby.

My parents call me Samuel Abelard Glass – whoever had _ever_ came up with the name _Abelard_ ought to have been shot – and they take me home the day after I am born. I am their last child, but rather their first child to survive: I should have one elder brother and two sisters, but they all were stillborn. I am the only Glass child in Morganville – and the last, to my parents.

The day after my birth is Sunday, but my parents stay home from church to get used to me being in the house; after years of wanting a baby, they finally have one and don't actually know what to do. It takes my mother three attempts to change my first nappy whilst my father simply complains about the smell, staying as far away from me as possible during what he calls 'stinky time'.

A knock comes at the door as night falls – a dangerous thing, in Morganville. My mother prepares to take me upstairs with her, as I begin to slumber, until my father opens the door to recognise the woman standing there, followed by two bodyguards.

We live in a Founder house, and this is the Founder, coming to visit the new addition to her town. This is the first time I meet Amelie, although I don't remember it, and she is beautiful.

"Hello, Simon," she greets my father in her icy cool voice, the voice which makes me snap open my eyes and revert back to being fully awake – I want to play!

"Ma'am, may I ask why you are here?" my father sounds polite but concerned as to why the Founder is here; she relinquished ownership of this house thirty years ago, selling to my grandparents before my father was born.

"I simply came to congratulate you on your child and to place Protection upon him," she comments lightly, a smile playing on her lips. "May I come in?" she asks, although I later learn that this is simply a pleasantry – she can enter without the owner's permission.

"Certainly," my father replies, stepping by to allow her and her bodyguards in. she glides towards me with a certain elegance, stopping a respectable distance from my mother and I, me held tightly in my mother's arms.

"Why he really is beautiful," she murmurs – Amelie – as she looks into my sapphire blue eyes. "May I?" she asks my mother, who nods although she doesn't seem particularly comfortable with me being held by a vampire who could kill me in a second.

I feel instantly at ease in Amelie's arms, and my eyes begin to drift shut instantly. Yet I still feel the slight twinge of pain as the permanent bracelet of Protection, which lasts until my eighteenth birthday, is slipped onto my right wrist.

But I ignore it and fall asleep for the entire night, Amelie's influence lingering upon me…

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**So, whatcha think?**

**I'm going to go through his life, picking out random moments that happened & then making some up, in oneshot form rather than a full story, as oneshots are nice and short xD and you don't have to get bored with my ramblings…**

… **only in my A/N's.**

**Please review **

**Vicky xx**


	2. I Made This For You Cheesy Grin

_Incase it wasn't clear from last chapter, this is Sam, who is dead, looking back at moments in his life, therefore could reflect a little mature thinking in it, even though it is present tense XD _

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"Samuel Abelard Glass, get here _right_ now!" my Mother yells for me to go and explain the mess I made in the kitchen when she was at work. I heave a heavy sigh and head through to the other room, setting the book I was reading down on the table as I pass it.

"Yep?" I ask in my usual happy tone, unable to be subdued even as I am being told off. Seven years old here, and proud of everything I have managed to achieve in my admittedly short life. As of yet, I haven't been attacked by a vampire – or even had the threat – and that is something to be proud of in Morganville.

Since my birth, I haven't seen Amelie or heard of her again by name: the only thing my parents call her, if they ever speak of her in hushed tones once they think I am asleep, is 'Madame Founder' – I doubt that they know her first name. This confuses me because I always think that someone ought to know their _entire_ name and that anything else is just lazy!

But back to the present: my mother is standing in front of me in the kitchen with her hands on her hips and an expression on her face that always scares me when I see it. It's even worse when my Dad's at work because at least if he were home he could stop her _majorly_ yelling at me.

"What _is_ this mess?" she screeches at me, indicating the flour spilt on the worktops, the dirty trays with burnt bits scattered over the table and the utensils abandoned on the floor when I dropped them. She moves closer to me with a feral expression and I duck, slightly scared of her at this moment in time. "Samuel, if you do not tell me now, I will end up doing something I know I will regret," she snaps at me and the only comparison that seems possible is to compare her to a vampire. I don't really know what they are, only that they run this town and that the 'head' vampire gave me this bracelet I have to wear. Bracelets are for girls, so it isn't exactly _fun _to wear this but everyone wears it so I guess it's _alright_.

My lower lip trembles at my mum telling me off but I dart around her to slide into the little vegetable cellar thing which is at the back of the food cupboard. I put her present in here that I made because I didn't want her to see it in the fridge when she was cooking dinner or have it melt if I left it out.

"It's your birthday tomorrow and I didn't want you to not have a cake," I explain my making of the cake which looks nice, albeit slightly burnt. As soon as she sees the product of all the mess, her face softens and a tear appears in her eye.

"Sammy, this is gorgeous, thank you!" she exclaims, putting the cake carefully on the table and wrapping me in a huge hug. Evidently, I am happy to be out of the path of trouble so hug her back, grinning at the way that a cake could get her to be so happy. "Tell you what, if we eat this now, shall we make another cake for tomorrow?" she suggests and I grin as I nod.

"That'd be awesome!" I confirm, pulling out of the hug. Then I pull another face. "But, um, Mum… we may need to get a new cooker. I think I broke that one," I confess, my impish grin on my face to try and alleviate the anger…

Uhoh…

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_Whatcha think?_

_Please review!_

_Stage three of Sam's life up soon!_

_Vicky xx_


	3. It's Not MY Fault I Have Red Hair!

_Thanks for the reviews!_

_I don't own anything_

_It is set around the same time as the last one, so Sam is about 8, I think._

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_The genius words of Hanziii:  
_OMG! Rachel caine is genius! I just realised this: people say red heads have no soul but she gave sam the biggest soul ever! :) hehe x **utterly right! Love you Hanzii! You know why!**

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School _really_ sucks right now.

People laugh at me because my hair is red… it's not fair: it isn't _my_ fault that I'm a natural redhead. But they say that I have a bad temper because I have the red hair and the way that I get annoyed really easily because they insult my hair colour. But it isn't because I have a bad temper, it's because I don't like the way that they stereotype me – my Dad taught me that word when I told him how I felt about the others in school calling me names. Even the teacher did it last week, saying that I have a bad temper because of my hair colour.

I didn't tell my parents though because Dad would say I was a cry baby and my Mum… well, she isn't very well at the minute. I don't know what's wrong and whenever I ask her she says she is fine, but I know better than that. Yet I don't want to cause her any more problems, so it's better to keep quiet, I think.

Lunchtime is really depressing now because I'm on my own. There isn't a single other redhead here so I'm the only one who gets the taunts… even the majority of the weird people in town – the vampires – don't have red hair. I think I've seen one vampire that has red hair and they were pretty normal…

It's been like this since I started school: at first, people didn't mind my hair but now they do. it isn't very nice but I get over it by going to go and sit in the library and read more books.

"Back again, Sam?" the librarian, Mrs Taylor, says to me as I enter the library and hand her my finished book.

"I finished this last night," I tell her in a proud voice, happy to be the best at something. I'm not the greatest at sports because I'm quite small but I don't really care because running is _boring_. I mean, going round and round a track is silly and to run after a ball is even stupider – I don't see why people have this mad obsession with dashing out at breaktime to get the 'good' equipment. The library is much nicer.

Mrs Taylor smiles at me and hands me another book, under which a little chocolate cookie is hidden. "Here you are, honey. I thought you'd like the book and it's your birthday next week, so have a cookie," she says to me in explanation for the cookie. I _know_ we're always being told not to accept food from strange adults but Mrs Taylor is _cool_! She likes me and always gives me a drink of orange when I sit in here.

"Thank you!" I say in an excited tone, slipping the cookie into my pocket as I go and sit on one of the comfy beanbags in the corner of the library and look at the book she gave me: Famous Five number 4, by Enid Blyton. I wanted this book _ages_ ago but my Mum and Dad didn't get me it because they thought it was a girls book… but it's really interesting adventures. It makes me think that maybe _I_ could have friends like this if I get into a good school that is boarding… but the vampires won't let me leave.

This is the first time in my life that I have felt anything towards the vampires. I never bothered about them before because they never bothered me, but I don't know… I don't like them because they hurt my family by wanting their blood – I see the little sticker on my Dad's arm every month and it makes me feel weird because I know that it _hurts_ to hurt yourself. I do it all the time when I fall down the stairs in front of our house when I'm running to get to school – the only time that running is helpful – and it doesn't make me feel nice.

But I want the friends that they have in the book, but I don't have them. Nobody else likes me: I guess there may be a couple of people who maybe would speak to me but I make them feel stupid in class, apparently, when I answer everything. I don't _mean_ to, it's just an accident – I _like_ knowing things, so I ask lots of questions.

It really hurts me though, that they all call me names. They say that I have a bad temper and that I'm really weird because I have red hair. Apparently I'm an idiot because I'm the only one and a loner because of this reason: they all hang around together whether they have brown or blonde hair but I can't join in.

The one that hurts me the most though is when they say I don't have a soul… because they're making me out to be like what we think vampires are. I don't actually really know _what_ a vampire is, still, but we all hear little bits of conversations about them and I know they aren't nice things. I pretend to be all happy and stuff but I want to cry…

… especially as none of the Famous Five people have red hair.

But there is _one_ good thing about being me, Sam Glass. At least I, at the _grand_ age of eight, didn't wet myself in maths last week like Bobby Radkee!

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_Whatcha think? It was a little diff to the last one as it was more about his feelings… back to the other two for the next one though!_

_Please review!_

_Vicky xx_


	4. Dad, I'm Going To Miss You

_Sorry for the WAY long time between this and the last one_

_I have the plan for what each one will have on my Ipod Touch & my Dad nicked it from me for the past two weeks or so because he and my Mum went on a cruise_

_Needless to say, I couldn't remember that far back (since I wrote the plan in April), so I'm just writing it now!_

_I don't own anything – unfortunately_

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I am standing on the podium in the church, facing the huge crowd of people who came to say goodbye to my Dad, and swallow loudly. My Dad died three days ago and this is his funeral; I couldn't let my Mother do this – she's already in pieces. I'm sixteen now and I should be the one to do this.

"My Dad was the best thing that was in this world," I say before pausing to hold back my tears. I may be a mid-teen, so to speak, but that doesn't mean that I can't show emotion.

My Dad died because of a heart attack: apparently he had this pre-disposition that meant his 'ticker', so to speak, wouldn't last past a certain time. He didn't bother to tell me but he and Mom knew about it would happen soon. She knew that he was going to die but she didn't tell me… neither did he. I should hate her for that but I don't; it meant that the time I had with my Dad was so much more special because I wasn't living as if every day was his last: it meant we could be normal…

… even up to the day he died.

"I loved him so much; I know it probably makes me sound weak, but I don't care what you think," I continue, giving up on the smudged notes I made earlier. It's not like I need them: I know exactly what I want to say and it isn't going to make a difference whether or not I read the illegible scrawls. "I will miss my Dad every single day. He is the man I always aspired to be and will continue to attempt to reach, though it seems ever more unlikely every day… many of you were friends with him; you know what kind of a person he was. He laughed, he smiled, he lived life to the max and I intend to do the same, to honour my father," I continue, unable to hold the tears back now.

I nod towards the vicar to indicate I'm finished before backing away from the podium. My gaze catches upon the corpse of my father, dressed in his business clothes; he always hated putting them on in the morning because it meant that 'he had to leave us behind', he had to go to work.

I regret now not asking my Dad more questions that I thought I would have all the time in the world to ask; how did he and my Mom meet; how did he know he was in love with her; why did he want children in Morganville? But those are only some of the reams of questions I wanted to ask him, I _want_ to ask him. He's dead now and I… I can't ask him.

My eyes linger on his face, the face which is so damn similar to mine. My Mom would call us 'peas in a pod' when we laughed at the same time; I know I'm going to look just like he does right now when I reach his age and it hurts my heart more than anything to admit it. I know he'll live on through me, his only child, but… it hurts that I will never see him again.

I'm sixteen now and I hate Morganville. I hate the figure of the person who locks us up here every single day, not allowing us to leave without 'permission'. I want to be able to travel the world, to be able to get out of this hellhole which contains so many painful memories of my Father now. I want to be able to get out and to travel the world, to meet a nice girl who I can fall in love with and marry without having to worry about vampires because they're all in Morganville.

I want to be _me_.

I don't know who this Founder is at this age in my life, but I know that I hate her for doing this to us. I know that I hate the way she has all the power in the situation, that she allows her people to do whatever they damned please whilst we have to live in constant fear.

I sit down in the front pew with my Mom, just as the vicar announces it is time for us to pay our respects to the coffin I just walked past. I go first, to help my Mother through it, and step up to the inanimate corpse of the man who raised me to be who I am today.

"Bye, Dad," I whisper, kissing his forehead softly before walking past. His hair is the same shade as mine, but just with flecks of grey in it. I'm going to look like this sometime in the future… just hopefully not dead at this time.

I wish that I had considered his appearance more when he was alive. I wish that I had thought about how he looked rather than just taking no notice because I was so used to him being around. I wish… I wish so damned much and I can't do anything about any of it!

Though it wasn't their fault, there is only one thing I want to do right now. I want to kill a vampire. I want to feel it dying because of _me_ and this scares me. I'm not normally so violent. But… but my Dad died and for those damned creatures, they don't care: all they're bothered about is the lack of blood donations to the damned Blood Bank.

I walk through the church with my Mom, taking her to wait outside for the coffin to be carried through. I want to never take her for granted now, since I lost Dad. I never want to be able to say that I lost two parents and knew nothing about their lives for ignorance regarding death.

After all, we're in Morganville. We could all die anytime.

And there is nothing we can do about it.

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_Wow, that was quite depressing_

_We know nothing about Mr Glass, just that both Sam's parents were dead by the time he and Melinda married._

_Idk if this is like an actual funeral because, even though loads of people have died in my family including my Grandad last year, my Mum and Dad wouldn't let me go to the funerals._

_And I don't know the layout of a church either: RE has left my mind!_

_Please review!_

_Happy times next, me thinks!_

_Vicky xx_


	5. Hi, I'm Sam, Sam Glass

_I don't own anything_

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I walk through the gates to TPU, the local university and the only one that Morganville students can go to unless they're an exceptionally bright person… not that we get many of them. I think since I can remember, there's been maybe three people who have been allowed to leave Morganville to go to university – and every single one of them have been ordered to come back. This mystery Founder orders everyone to return unless they are in the military… but not many people are.

The war ended a few years ago and now all the people who they allowed to go serve the country are returning, actually preferring to return to Morganville than to live in the war affected country. We haven't been that affected by the economics from the war because we are pretty self subsidising…

… but enough about the stupidity of Morganville's laws; I head up towards the main building, wondering where my first class will be. I got my timetable through the post last week and all I know is that the room is in the main building. I hope that there'll be at least a few people in the class, since English has never exactly been that popular at school… but it's what I want to do.

"Excuse me," I approach a group of girls, all of whom blush as I approach. It's not like I'm the object of people's desires in Morganville – the majority of these are non-natives, so don't know anything about the laws of Morganville… or the vampires. "Do you know where room 212 is?" I feel despair at having to ask people who I have never seen before where a room is, since they probably don't know either. Then again, they had the campus tour since they live here whilst I didn't.

One girl in the front, a girl with brown hair and a face that instantly attracts me to her, looks at me and smiles. "I don't, but I'm heading there myself so we can go together?" she suggests, shrugging her shoulders slightly.

"Uh, sure," I stutter, not sure what to say to such a pretty girl. I decide to put my hand out for her to shake, deciding that it's time to be new and fresh and out with the old ways of greeting people. "I'm Sam, Sam Glass, from Morganville," I name myself and she blushes, stepping away from her friends.

"I'm Melinda, Melinda Barnes, from somewhere so small you would never have heard of it," she grins at me as we begin to walk to find our class.

And this is the first day I meet Melinda, my future wife and mother to my child.

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_They're all supposed to be this length… the others have just been longer!_

_Thoughts?_

_Review, priddy pwease!_

_Vicky xx_


	6. Will You Marry Me?

_I don't own anything_

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That first meeting with Melinda, I ask her out on a date. She, thankfully, accepts and it's quite possibly one of the most magical moments of my life to date.

Now, four months down the line, the burning love I have felt right from our very first date is still here. It isn't going anywhere. It's a flash burn sensation, one that causes my breath to lock in my throat whenever I look at her, one that causes me physical agony to be apart from her, one that I know I have to bank on.

I know she's the one for me. I know I _have_ to ask her to marry me, to keep us together forever. I need her. This much is obvious to me! Sometime between spending every conscious moment thinking about her to buying a ring I decided that.

"Sam?" her voice interrupts my inner monologue as to how much I need her, drawing me back to the reality that is her. She's sitting opposite me at the candlelit table I prepared earlier, as soon as I knew that she was _definitely_ coming over, a bemused smile on her face as she looks at me.

"Yes?" I reply, an involuntary blush rising in my cheeks as I process I could have been sitting here for over an hour just thinking of her. I know it's not more than a day because I'd be getting hungry and that would be contesting my love for Miss Barnes, but definitely a long time would be plausible.

"You look adorable when you're embarrassed," she smiles at me, a sort of cheeky hint to the way she flashes me her dimples. My eyes meet hers, my blue getting lost somewhere in the depths of her emerald green ones. They're so exquisite, as if they're rare jewels in the ocean, ones that I can claim as my own… forever.

Somehow, I find myself moving towards her on one knee, my hand foraging in my pocket for the ring box I _know_ is in there. A panicky moment occurs when I believe I have lost the box yet I manage to find it, a small smile sliding onto my face as I produce it.

She looks stunned as I open the box, producing the small but expensive ring I spent half my savings on. I'm a college student so I can't afford _that_ much, but I… I saw this ring and all I could see is Melinda's face.

She smiles at me as I open my mouth.

"Melinda, will you marry me?" the words issue from my mouth, an expectant smile on my face.

"Yes."

I slide the ring onto her finger and kiss her with more passion than ever before.

My life is perfect.

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_Please don't fav/alert without reviewing._

_Vicky xx_


	7. She's Pregnant

Seven

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I hold my wife's hair back as she throws up into the toilet, my gut telling me that I know why she is being sick. After all, it _is_ sort of obvious, is it not?

We've been married three months now, just a small wedding down at the City Hall. All my family are dead so they couldn't come, whilst Melissa didn't want her parents and sister to come here – not after she found out about the vampires. I can't blame her; I'm the one making her stay here, the one who was selfish enough to fall in love with someone from out of town and get her to love me back. Not having her parents here (though I would have loved to have met the people who raised the most perfect daughter) was the least I could do.

And now here we are, most likely to be becoming _parents_ if my limited medical knowledge is correct, and I can only think of a boy who could grow up like me…

But let's not get too ahead of ourselves.

"I think I should go to the doctors," Melissa moans as she hoists herself to her feet. Ignoring the smell of sick, I pull her into my arms and bury my face in her hair…there could be three of us here.

"I think you should as well," I agree. We could be a family.

_~three days later~_

"I'm pregnant."

These words, to my shame, send a wave of fear running through me as soon as I first hear them. Whilst I definitely had my suspicions that she is pregnant, it is definitely different to be hearing it confirmed. And more than that – I'm _twenty_! It doesn't seem right, in this day and age, to be married, let alone having a baby.

Then another thought hits me: I'm still in schooling, making no money – I'm already struggling slightly, living on my parent's legacy. There definitely isn't enough money to put me through another two years of the university as _well_ as looking after a baby.

I'll have to quit school.

But the next thought that goes through my head is realising this is probably one of the happiest days of my life. There's going to be a little me or Melissa, something to show how much I love her.

Suddenly, I find myself wrapping her in my arms and grinning, feeling her stomach against me. We're going to be parents.

We're going to be together forever…forever as humans, since forever has a different meaning in this town.

We're going to be _happy_.

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_Sad that, isn't it, that he's telling lies to himself…haha_

_Don't fav/alert without reviewing please, and thank you._

_I'll be updating more often as I want to get it done sooner rather than later, as I have too much to do!_

_Vicky xx_


	8. Protection

Eight

I don't own anything

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Breathing heavily, I take the step towards the church, knowing I cannot be hurt in here, that it is common ground for both humans and vampires – in _here_, she cannot hurt me.

I know she shall be in here.

She always is.

The _Founder_ has allowed her vampires to attack my _pregnant_ wife, allowed them to nearly kill her and my unborn child simply because my Melissa hasn't a Protector because she is still new to the town. She only found out about vampires less than four months ago and _now they've tried to kill her_.

More than that, they tried to kill her and my unborn baby in the middle of the day, luring her into a situation where any Morganville-native would have known what to do…but she didn't.

She almost died and I don't know what I can do to protect her – protect _them_ – without going to the highest power around, this having to be the Founder. I've never seen her at this point in my life – not that I can remember, at least – and I need to ask her for Protection to cover my entire family, to override the 'basic' I have at the minute.

I half expect the Founder to be this stuffy old woman, someone who hides merely due to their lack of physical beauty, yet she's the exact opposite…she's almost, dare I say it, _beautiful._

The complete opposite of what I thought is true; she's young looking (though she wears clothes even my _Mother_ wouldn't have worn), blonde and just…the opposite to what I thought. I never expected _this_.

She turns to face me, her eyes narrowing as she tries to place a name to my face – let it be known if she has indeed bothered to know every person in her town, or if someone has slipped through her net.

She doesn't speak, waiting for me to make the first move as I approach _her_ in the church, my anger turning to silent fury as I process perhaps shouting in a church isn't the brightest of ideas.

"One of _your_ vampires tried to kill _my_ pregnant wife and there isn't the slightest bit of concern, simply because she is from out of town and doesn't know how Morganville works," I say in as calm a voice as possible, watching as she stares at me. "Yet you care not for this simply because she is human."

Silence reigns the room and I realise that perhaps I should have introduced myself. As I go to do this, she stands to face me, a cool feeling sliding around the room as her eyes narrow further.

"I know of your wife's situation, Mr Glass," she informs me coolly, "and those involved have been dealt with accordingly, I can assure you."

This sparks the anger off, perhaps making the stereotype about redheads true – yet I don't care because _Melissa_ is involved and I don't want her to get hurt.

"That's not good enough," I shouldn't probably be saying this but I am, risking it because it's better than coming here and getting absolutely nothing. "She could die and you don't care. She's _pregnant_ and she's at risk because there isn't anyone who she can get Protection from."

"And what do you want _me_ to do about it?" the blonde - Amelie her name is, from what I've heard – raises an eyebrow as she faces me. "Do you desire me to destroy the town due to one mishap? Do you desire me to make it known that your wife is pregnant, therefore possibly making her a greater target? Mr Glass, I am at a loss what you want me to do."

"Just…do _something_."

She sighs ever so slightly before nodding.

"There is one thing I can do, something that shall change your life more than that of your wife and child, for I can only issue my Protection for them through you."

And so this is the day that I sign with Amelie.

…

I hear the day after that this is the first time that Amelie has taken a human on for over one hundred years, since near the conception of Morganville, but that doesn't help the situation as a silver bracelet locks itself irremovably around my wrist.

I've signed with the most dangerous (and powerful) vampire to ensure that my wife and child are safe.

I can only hope it works.

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_Don't__ fav/alert without reviewing, please & thanks._

_Vicky xx_


	9. Hospital

Nine

_I'm pretty sure I don't own anything_

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I pace in the hospital waiting room, waiting to hear _something_ about Melinda, about our child, just wanting to know they're ok. I'm sure it's a boy, but I don't care either way, so long as it's healthy and Melinda is ok.

Absentmindedly, I twist the silver bracelet around on my wrist, as though by doing this it will come off. It's not going to. It has been on my wrist for over three months now; I sincerely doubt it will be removed before I die.

"First one?" another Father is in the waiting room with me, looking at me with a smile. I nod slowly and he laughs. "It's obvious, mate. But she'll be ok, they normally are."

This doesn't give me the best of confidence.

(And it's right to be like this.)

**.**

Time passes and, soon, all the Fathers waiting in the room with me are gone, replaced by new ones. She's been in there too long. It's not right.

Part of me knows that there's something going on that shouldn't be, but I suppress it, keeping in mind the perfect picture I've painted of the three of us together. The baby will inherit the house when we get older, able to start their own family there; it's all perfect.

"Mr Glass," there's a doctor I vaguely recognise standing in front of me, looking down.

One look at his face tells me everything I need to know.

"Oh God," I mutter, standing up and pushing past him, unable to be in here anymore, with these people waiting to be parents and husbands.

I don't expect him to catch up to me as fast as he does; evidently, my speed is incapacitated by the fact I've just lost the love of my life and my child, the baby that would have been Melinda.

"Mr Glass," the doctor says in a soothing voice. "Your son, he lives. We just saved him…I'm extremely sorry for your loss."

I hear the words "son" and "lives" in the sentence, before my mind blocks out everything to do with Melinda's death.

And I black out.

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_Don't favourite/alert without reviewing._

_Vicky xx_


	10. Meetings

_Ten_

* * *

I never expected this.

I never expected to be raising a child alone, partially because I never thought about the _raising_ of the child; I considered the idea of being a parent with my wife, but never the looking after of the baby.

Raising Stephen…it's a challenge alone, but I'm not really alone; every busybody on the street is down to help out with feedings, changings and making sure my son is vaccinated against the dangerous diseases.

Parenthood is something that causes the greatest pain, and yet the greatest joy, because every time I look at my son's face, I see Melinda. All I can see in him is her, and that's the worst thing, because it makes a bad mood worse, until it almost seems as though I'm spiralling downwards.

I'm not sure if things can go on like this for much longer, getting by ok, but not _really_ being ok, because Stephen needs a better influence than just me, and I don't know if things will work out exactly as I hope.

.-.

The doorbell rings just after Stephen falls to sleep, and I rush to answer it before it wakes him up.

Behind the door is a young _appearing_ woman – you can never be sure, not in this town – and I know who she is instantly. Nobody but the Founder would dress as she is, and be accompanied by three large, pale men, all of whom look as though one finger could kill me. One of her fingers could kill me as well…this is the woman (_vampire)_ who keeps us here…the oldest vampire in the world.

"My name is Amelie," she begins slowly, no fangs thankfully. "May I come in?"

Little do I know at this point, just how much of an influence she is going to have on my life.

* * *

_don't favourite/alert without reviewing._

_-vicky xx_


	11. Changing

Eleven

In the past two years, I can safely say that I've had no greater friend than Amelie.

And, in all honesty, that scares me.

Since Melinda died, things have been a little different around here; I've had the busybodies who don't believe that a man can look after a baby well, coming round every five minutes on the pretence of borrowing some flour, as well as the pitiful stares from anyone and everyone who catches me out with my son.

It's apparently strange that I haven't moved on and remarried – as is the custom, so people tell me – but Amelie agrees that I'm doing good on my own. After I got over the shock of seeing _her_ on my front step after Melinda died, we ended up chatting, and I realised something.

She's really nice.

There's part of her that isn't just vampire; it's human. She's kind and interested in me, and when we met, there was a large part of her that was frozen and nearly dead. As we've grown closer, I think that she needs me as much as I need her; I'm filling the gap in her, making her feel again, and there's no way I could go back to life pre-Amelie. She needs me as much as I need her, I've concluded, and she's the only person I can tell certain things.

If it wasn't so wrong, maybe…maybe I could find myself falling in love with her. This kind of love, low-burning over a long period of time, it's the truest sort of love, the type we all ache to find. Maybe we could be together, if she were human, or I happened to be a vampire.

But we're not, so I'm guessing that for now, we're going to be nothing more than good friends.

(Funny how these things can change, isn't it?)

* * *

**An**: this drabble is set about two years after they first meet, and about a year before he's turned into a vampire; this is why he's sort of inbetween the friends and lovers stage.

I'd appreciate it if you didn't favourite or alert without reviewing, thank you.


	12. Amor

Twelve

"I love you."

The words just spill out of my mouth as I sit opposite Amelie in my dining area, and I instantly want to take them back: the expression on her face suggests to me that that was a mistake, that that will be the reason why she leaves here and never returns.

After a few seconds, however, and before I can say another word, Amelie speaks, moving her hand to rest on top of mine at the same time. "These are not words that I have spoken aloud in centuries, Sam, but…I love you, also. I believe that I couldn't live my life without you in it any longer; you have changed me, and the way that you have is yet to be made clear to me."

I blink, flabbergasted; this is something I never expected. I thought that once the words were out of my mouth, she would be on her feet, fabricating some reason why she needs to leave, as she has done every other time I have almost said the words.

Before I can say a word in response, my telephone rings, and she nods her head slowly, her eyes on the clock. "Answer it, Samuel—I must leave. I apologise for the suddenness of it, but I recall some work that I must complete."

Before I can say a word, she's moving, her lips pressing to my cheek for the briefest of moments, lighter than air, and then she's gone.

I dash to the phone to pick it up before it awakens my light sleeping son, and answer the call that changes my life forever.

If I had had a choice at this moment between going to the bar and being turned, or staying home and remaining human…I don't know what I would do.

* * *

please don't favourite, alert or read without reviewing, thank you!

(as poor sam is unloved.)


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